Badass: Deadly Target (Complete): Military Romantic Suspense (23 page)

“I’ve got you, baby,” I tell her, wrapping her in the blankets, trying to keep shock at bay. “Breathe in deep for me.” She does and coughs. “It’s okay, cough it up.” I use the wet shirt to clean up her face.

Outside the building, the fire fight seems to be over, or close to it. There are random shots, but nothing more.

Link and Tate are pouring through the contents of the file cabinet, tossing files into a plastic box. “Found it,” Link says, scanning a page in front of him. “They’re using the summit to get nuclear codes.”

I look at Popov. “Give me my phone!”

He reaches into his pocket and holds it out. Tate growls and snatches it from him before tossing it to me. “Damn drugs,” he mutters and punches Popov in the face.

Powering the phone on, I ask Tate, “How did you track me?”

“Sent you a virus that mimics a phone being powered off. Your signal was still strong.”

Shaking my head, I hit Haun’s number, I listen to it ring.

Link is next to me again, wrapping a thick layer of gauze around my wrists as I hit Haun’s number again. He pulls off my shoes to get to the cuts on my feet and ankles.

“This is not a good time, Agent Haw—” Haun barks.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me,” I yell and proceed to tell him everything.

“Hold on.” I can hear him shouting at people. “I’m putting you on speaker. Say that again.”

I start from the beginning, smiling when Mia wraps her arms around my waist and I pull her tighter against my chest.

“Check her for secondary drowning,” I tell Tate, then continue recounting the series of events to Haun and whoever else is listening.

Tate checks her pulse and then her heart after he finds a stethoscope and some medical supplies. He gives me a thumbs up, but I know my concerns for her aren’t over.

After I’ve recounted the events and the imminent threat taking place within the summit, Haun barks some orders, and I can hear people scatter.

“Good job, Agent Hawthorne,” Haun is saying. “I’ll have a team down there in a few hours to take over. In the meantime, guard that information with your life. This drug is a game changer. Our science department will…”

Mia gasps and I can read her mind. I look at Tate, then Link. They’re both thinking the same thing.

“…the chemical process must be protected…”

No.

I’ve long feared nuclear weapons and the power contained within one bomb. My fear of chemical warfare is even greater. I love my country, and I would like to believe that each of our leaders live and breathe to serve the American people.

I know better.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I say, interrupting him. “But the chemical recipe was destroyed in the blast.”

I hang up as a string of profanities comes over the line.

Mia sags in relief, and I kiss her forehead. Tate and Link look at me in approval. Then they begin to pull everything out of the metal cabinets and order men to do the same in every room.

“If you find any classified documents regarding new possible threats, keep those,” Tate orders and men scatter throughout the building.

“How are you feeling?” I ask Mia.

Her voice is weak but also strong at the same time. Especially for someone who was dead just minutes ago. Her face has more color; her fingernail beds look more natural. She’s circulating oxygen well, which is a good sign.

“Chest hurts,” she says, which totally makes sense. The poor girl took a beating under my hands.

“How does it feel to breathe?”

“Not bad, just my ribs hurt, my chest. Throat.” She coughs softly and adrenaline spikes through me again. I fear secondary drowning and its insidious attack on the lungs. Too many people nearly drown, go to sleep, and never wake again.

“Listen to me carefully, Mia.” I wait until she meets my eyes. “If breathing becomes difficult, more labored. If you feel really tired, more than you do right now. If you feel like you’re going to throw up, or if you do throw up, you have to tell me.” She nods. “Promise.”

Her fingernails scrape down my stubble. “I promise.”

I kiss her soft lips and hold her while Tate’s team continues to go through the building. Link and Tate are beside me again. “She doesn’t need to fly for another couple days,” Link says, and I nod agreement.

Tate nods too. “Agreed. We’ll get you to Costa Rica near the best medical facility in case something turns bad. Fly you out once she’s cleared.”

“Sounds good.” Then I look from one to the other. “I’m fired, you know.”

Tate claps me on the back. “Yeah, which is a good thing because I’ve been looking for a good man to set up a Northern California division.”

I grin at him. “Is that so?”

“Yep. If you can think of some other good men to join you, let me know.”

Dave.

I reach out a hand, and he hauls me up, Mia still cradled against my chest.

“Yeah. I can do that.”

A half hour later, I carry Mia out of the building and turn to watch as it goes up in flames.

Yes, this little move just cost me the job I’d worked so hard for. But I don’t care. No human on earth needs to know how to control another person’s mind. The world is scary enough as it is. Men are evil enough without giving them this absolute power.

As I walk Mia to a black SUV, I see Popov standing among his surviving men. The CIA can have him. I’d spit on the ground, but this hypnotized Popov wouldn’t understand the meaning. He’s still heavily influenced by the drug and will be spilling his secrets soon enough. Haun will have to settle for that.

Chapter 14 – Mia

After a thorough check-up at Hospital CIMA in Escazu, Costa Rica, I’ve been ensconced in a beautiful hotel room these past five days. The view is of the city and the mountains in the distance. But that isn’t what’s so special.

I turn from the window.

Him.

The man sleeping in our bed is what catches my breath. One arm is thrown to the side, one hand on his lean stomach. The sheet is, unfortunately, covering everything from his hips down.

There are still bandages on his wrists, a stark contrast to the tan of his skin. We’ve spent our mornings in the sun. Our afternoons under the hands of a masseuse or taking drives out of the city to visit waterfalls or stand with our toes in the sea.

I’m ashamed to say I’ve not been ready to go in water any deeper. Fear closes my throat at the thought. Jax is understanding and doesn’t push me to be braver. He just holds me closer, giving me his warmth.

Walking over to my suitcase, I choose some comfortable clothes to wear on the plane. We had to go shopping because we’d left behind everything in the 4-Runner. Before we escaped the compound, Jax had given the keys to a woman with four children clinging to her side.

From what we learned from her, she, her husband and kids had been taken there over a year ago. Her husband is dead, and she believed that she and her children would have been euthanized soon as well. Euthanized — her word.

Jax later told me that Link Duffy planned to find homes for all the families inside the village. I’d heard that he was a kind man that way. Seems the rumors are true.

Nothing about the village or the synthetic drug has made it to the news, I know because Jax monitored the internet carefully the first few days. The most significant news was that the Russian president had died from a fatal heart attack during the summit. When I asked Jax if he’d really died that way, he simply lifted his shoulder and said, “It’s better not to know some things.”

I wonder if they’ll be able to cover all of this up forever. I also wonder what other horrible near catastrophes have happened over the ages that normal Americans like me will never know.

Maybe ignorance is bliss in some cases.

Carrying the sun dress I’ve chosen for the trip, I walk to the side of the bed to sit next to the man who saved me. The man I’m no longer afraid to admit I love. The more I’ve gotten to know him, the deeper my feelings have become. He’s sexy and strong, but tender and sensitive. Perfect in every way that matters.

Except for leaving the toilet seat up. We’ll have to work on that.

We’re still learning things about my mom and the father I didn’t know existed, but what I do know has made me tremble inside. My father is Abram Aslanov, and he’s been a political prisoner in Russia for over twenty-five years. Sergei Aslanov, the man my mother wanted me to take the documents to, is my grandfather. It is he who learned of the synthetic devil’s breath and had sought out my mother to intervene, making her a deadly target. Then me.

I’m still not sure how I feel about that.

Maybe my mother’s journal will answer some additional questions. It’s still under the seat in my little Volkswagen back in Sacramento.

Next to me, Jax stirs and opens his eyes. The smile he gives me warms my heart.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says as he stretches, causing the muscles to ripple in his chest.

“Good morning, Mr. Gorgeous.” I pull the sheet down to reveal his morning erection.

He grins bigger but pulls the sheet back up. “No, you’re still not completely healed.”

I pout. We haven’t made love since the morning of the abduction.

“Please,” I whine, pulling the sheet back down. “I’m sure those pain relieving hormones will take over and…” He moans as I lick him up his length.

Sitting up, his hand is in my hair as he pulls me up until our mouths connect. I take advantage of the passion and straddle his lap.

“No condoms,” he says as I grind down on him, and I could have cried. It’s so tempting to not care, to risk pregnancy, but that thinking is foolish. I want more time with Jax, just the two of us. I want to make sure that what we have can last.

“Come here,” he says and lays back down. When I just stare at him, he adds, “Turn around.”

Oh, I get it, although I’ve never done this before.

Sliding off him, I climb up the bed, not really certain how to do this. Just jump on his face? How can I make sure I don’t smother him to death? God, this is embarrassing.

“First time?” he asks, and my face grows even hotter.

He chuckles and grabs my arm, pulling me until I’m hovering over him, my hands on his chest. And then his tongue is there, and the uncertainty and embarrassment fades away as pleasure takes its place. When I take him into my mouth, closing the circuit of our bodies, nothing else matters but this.

An eternity later, we’re stepping out of the Sacramento airport and are greeted by Dave at the curb. When I open the door to his Jeep, I hear a “meow.”

“Libby!”

I scramble in and open her crate, holding my arms out to her, waiting for her to leap lovingly into my lap.

Nothing.

“Libby? Sweetie, it’s me.”

Peeking into the crate, she’s just sitting there, licking her paw, her face turned away. Fickle feline. This is nothing like the reunion I imagined.

“Should have gotten a dog.”

I scowl at Dave, who’s laughing as he puts the Jeep in drive.

“By the way, when I drop you two off, I’m going straight to the humane society and getting my sister a kitten.” Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. “Dana has loved having Libby around, and she hasn’t seemed as depressed.”

I look back at the crate, and Libby’s sweet face appears in the door. Then she’s on my lap, pushing her head into my hand, demanding to be petted on her terms. That’s what I love about cats. They’re independent and fierce. Something I’m learning to be.

As we drive through the familiar streets, I listen to Jax and Dave talk about their new jobs and the building they are leasing for the Northern California division of Black Shield. It makes me smile, watching the two of them.

“Does she know?” Dave whispers to Jax, who elbows him in the arm.

“Do I know what?” I ask, and Dave groans.

“Nothing.”

I pull Libby under my neck, pressing my cheek into her soft fur. “Tell me.”

Jax scowls at Dave again, then turns to look back at me. “You’ll know soon enough.”

What can it be?

The question eats at me for the next few minutes, then we pull onto my street. My VW is sitting in its usual spot and just seeing it makes me smile. “It that it? You busted my bug out of tow company hell?”

“Yes!” Jax says too quickly. “Surprise!”

I narrow my eyes at him but play along.

Once we’ve parked, I dig my keys out of my bag. I can’t believe I still have them after all we’ve been through. The bag is torn in places and needs a good cleaning, but I don’t want to throw it away.

Holding Libby to my chest, I step out into the California sun and head over to my small car. I want Mom’s journal. More than anything else, I need to know what’s inside. Tears spring to my eyes as I pull it from under the seat, leaving her gun there for now.

“Ready?”

Because I can no longer talk, I nod. Yes, I’m ready to be home.

Since he still has my apartment key, Dave jogs ahead and has the door open by the time we get there. I step inside and freeze.

Tate and Link are there, standing in my living room. An elderly couple and another man stand beside them.

Dave takes Libby from me, and Jax wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Mia, meet your father, Abram, and your grandparents, Sergei and Iskra.”